


Anniversary Night

by Iridium (IridiumFlames)



Category: Free!
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Hand Jobs, M/M, Maid Matsuoka Rin, holy shit that's actually a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-06 20:44:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4236009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IridiumFlames/pseuds/Iridium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off <a href="http://iridium-flames.tumblr.com/post/95038964768/">this</a> prompt:</p><blockquote>
  <p>but like imagine their first anniversary and rin is freaking the fuck out because oh my god they lasted so long and what does he get him and makoto knows this and just texts rin the night before they are going out for their anniversary ‘maid outfit’<br/></p>
</blockquote><br/>Rin is in a maid outfit for his and Makoto's anniversary.
            </blockquote>





	1. Carnations

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to make this cute and sexy but Rin cried and ignored his emotions and made everything a huge fuckin dealio, what ELSE is fuckin new, so here we are
> 
> So yeah, I don't have a lot to say about this one! -also for reference a monaka is one of [ these](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monaka); they're a traditional Japanese dessert and according to the information I found at least a little formal.

What?
    
    
    From: makooo117@yahoo.co.jp 
    To: sharkr1n@yahoo.co.jp
    Subject: (no subject)
    
    maid outfit? 
    

Rin stares at his phone, not really seeing it. 

Makoto even sent a little emoticon immediately afterward.
    
    
    From: makooo117@yahoo.co.jp 
    To: sharkr1n@yahoo.co.jp
    Subject: (no subject)
    
    (⸝⸝•́ω•̀⸝⸝)
    

Rin looks at the tiny screen of his phone again, disbelieving. How does he react? Maybe Makoto was trying to search something, and sent it to him accidentally? In which case, why is his boyfriend searching for maid outfits in secret? That’s a whole other set of questions that need answers.

He sends a simple “what?” back, asking for clarification. And then he remembers; their anniversary dinner is tonight. Rin had painstakingly saved up for it for the past two months– but it’s not like he’d been waiting. Nobody has to know that he spent a few too many nights too happy to sleep, as it got closer and closer, slowly comprehending that they might _last_ , they might make it. But, well– of course they would make it to a year. It’s him and Makoto, they can get through anything. 

He might have agreed to a few too many sponsorships to afford tonight’s restaurant, though. There’s one particular sweatshirt promotion on his schedule that is almost certainly a crime of fashion. But the restaurant he’s taking Makoto to is reservation only; he thinks it maybe scratches the surface of what Makoto deserves for existing near Rin all this time. He does his best to show him, at least. 

How Rin possibly forgot is a mystery. It must’ve been Sousuke’s sudden-death training cooldown. Some cooldown, his legs are going to fall off.

Sousuke ambles into the locker room to find Rin squinting at his phone looking lost. He taps him on the shoulder.

“Hey, I didn’t actually kill you, did I? I thought the “grim reaper coach” thing was a loving insult.”

Rin shakes himself, frowning. “What is this?” he accuses, as though Sousuke’s somehow to blame, and shoves the phone in his face for him to figure out. 

Sousuke cranes his neck back to grimace at the screen, suddenly two inches in front of him, and lets out a pretty unflattering “HA,” which earns him a smack on the arm. Best friends don’t laugh at debacles like this, what kind of loser is he? 

“This is serious! What does he want from me?” Rin snaps.

“Probably, either you or him in a maid outfit,” Sousuke replies, a small grin starting to form. “I did not picture Makoto as a pervert, wow.” 

“Neither did I,” Rin mumbles, before he starts yelling. “Anyway I’m not going to do that, what the fuck! I thought I was done with this after high school!” 

“Wait, what? You actually did that?” Sousuke’s eyebrows rise to his hairline, the grin springing into full bloom right as Rin snaps his mouth shut. He didn’t mean to mention that. Sousuke didn’t know he had been successfully coerced into the maid café since he came in as a third-year, when they were allowed to be butlers instead. And it was safely locked in the annals of Don’t Fucking Talk About This With Sousuke Because He Will Mock You Forever. Until now. 

“Shut up, it was required,” he fumbles. “Mikoshiba wouldn’t let me skip out.” 

“Wow, so they force you into the maid outfits if you don’t agree? What kind of swim club did I transfer into, Rin?” His grin is positively shit-eating.

“I told you to shut up.” 

Thankfully he does. “Fine. So, what are you going to do?” Sousuke says, nodding at Rin’s phone tellingly.

“I don’t know. I mean, I’ll figure it out.”

The train back to the apartment gives Rin time to think. Crammed next to a bored businessman and a lady with far too many groceries, he contemplates whether or not it’s something he even wants to go through with. It’s not that he wants to disappoint Makoto, it’s just that– it’s girly. 

Rin doesn’t have anything against girly things. He’d gladly be the first to point out the virtues of eyeliner, even nail polish if he’s being honest with himself. So what, eyeliner makes his eyes brighter by contrast. Maybe a flash of color every time he sees his hands would make him feel nice. But he’s still thankful his voice deepened the way it did as a teenager, because man, it was hard in middle school, being a chirpy little boy who gushed about his sister’s romance comics. He’s always had a kind of delicate face and longer eyelashes, but he’s a guy, dammit. Just because he likes fashion it shouldn’t suddenly make him some kind of wimp. Not that he’d ever think of calling Kou a wimp, for wearing girly things, but she’s a girl– and there’s nothing wrong with that. But she’s Kou, she’s okay with crying and talking about things, she’s okay with being– shit, this shouldn’t be so hard.

They haven’t really talked about this particular issue, him and Makoto, because they’re both fairly masculine. Neither of them challenged the way things were, and it had never had a chance to _be_ an issue. 

Then again, Makoto had never asked Rin to dress up as a maid. 

He pulls out his phone and sends another mail.
    
    
      
    
    > From: sharkr1n@yahoo.co.jp
>     To: makooo117@yahoo.co.jp
>     Subject: re: earlier
>     mako are you seriously asking me to dress up as a maid for our anniversary?
    
    
    

He’s almost at his stop before Makoto replies, only one word.
    
    
      
    
    > From: makooo117@yahoo.co.jp 
>     To: sharkr1n@yahoo.co.jp
>     Subject: re: re: earlier
>     please?
    
    
    

It would have been easier to turn him down if Makoto had left it at that. But he attached a picture of himself making that _face_ , all soft eyes and a pout he probably doesn’t realize he’s making, and that, Rin can’t say no to. Fuck. He supposes he’ll be doing this then. He doesn’t remember himself being so easy to sway.

He gets off three stops earlier while he’s still downtown and decides to make a few purchases. If he’s doing this, he’s not going halfway and that requires more than just– the item in question. 

After possibly the most embarrassing shopping trip of his life, he’s on his way back to the apartment, with a deliberately plain shopping bag and a couple of extras from stores that sell men’s _and_ women’s clothing, thank you. Thankfully, he dug up an old baseball cap from his swim bag, which gave him some small anonymity; although sex shop workers aren’t known for being professional swimming fans, he can’t risk being recognized. He feels a smug bubble of pride at the fact that he’s getting famous enough to even cause a scandal– although he should think about that particular fact later, maybe when he’s not carrying the evidence with him.

“I’m home,” he yells as he crashes through the door of their apartment. He doesn’t expect an answer, but a cheery voice calls to him from the kitchen. 

“Welcome home!” Makoto’s– here? Then he sees his backpack tossed on the floor next to the table. That’s right, it’s a weekend, he’s off school at noon. Makoto’s voice carries through the apartment, along with the smell of something frying, and Rin hunts him down to give him his I’m-home kiss. He meets Rin with a hug halfway to the kitchen. 

“Hey, how are you? How was practice?” Makoto is about as warm as his voice, and strong arms wrap around Rin when he crushes his face into Makoto’s shoulder. He smells like home.

“Good,” Rin starts to answer, before smelling a more immediate problem. “…Is something burning?”

Makoto’s eyes fly open. “Ah, gosh, shit, I thought I took it off the burner–” He hustles away from Rin toward the stove and shoves a pan to one side. Rin follows him. It was possibly vegetables, once, but it’s too black now to tell for certain. Nevertheless, Makoto is still missing a kiss and that situation will not stand. He pops him on the cheek, soft and quick. Makoto returns it, hugging him tight, and he looks so sweet and uncorrupted that Rin can almost forget the texts that are burning a hole in his cellphone. But the three bags weighing against his side are evidence to the contrary.

Makoto pulls away to try to save the vegetables. “What’s in the bags?” He cranes his neck back towards Rin, curious, and Rin clutches them closer to himself before realizing what he’s doing.

“Nothing! It’s nothing, shut up.” He is completely inconspicuous and stealthy. 

“Well, that has to be something, now doesn’t it?” Makoto says, raising an eyebrow at him and failing to hide a smile.

Rin’s mouth twists into a pout as he scrambles for an excuse. “No, it’s something for Sousuke. We have a bet going.” 

“Oh, okay, I’ll just keep doing this then,” Makoto stutters, snapping back to scraping the ruins of his vegetables. Every bit of him is exuding “I don’t want to know,” which Rin is thankful for. That should cover his ass for now. His bets with Sousuke have gotten notoriously extravagant– nobody’s going to forget the Crab Incident of last November. He takes advantage of Makoto’s turned back by disposing of the evidence in the hall closet.

“Don’t go into the hall closet until the second of next month, okay?” he yells down the hall, and gets a dutiful “Yes sir!” in response. Good, good, all according to plan. That should keep Makoto in the dark until tonight, when he’ll find out anyway. Rin’s stomach does an odd little flip, but it’s fine. Tonight’s going to go off without a hitch, the first part if not the second. He’s had this dinner planned for ages–

Then why is Makoto cooking dinner? Rin’s face quirks into a frown. “Mako! Mako what the fuck are you making, we’re going out for dinner!” He can’t have forgotten. Right? 

Makoto immediately rescues his wonderful-boyfriend reputation. “I know!” he calls from the kitchen. “I was trying this new recipe Haru gave me because we had all the ingredients. I was going to put it away for later, so that if I got it right, you could take it for lunch during the week!” Rin hides a smile against the closet door. He probably looks stupid as shit right now. He would have bragged about eating burnt vegetables all week long, if he could say his boyfriend made him lunch.

*****

Rin taps his fingers on the wheel of the rental car. He drove straight to the apartment after picking up the rental, and his suit from the cleaner’s, and his hair’s a mess, and he still has to shower and change, he hasn’t even _seen_ Makoto since he got home– it’s been several whole hours, doesn’t Makoto know this is dangerous for Rin’s health so close to their anniversary? He can’t tell if the knot in his stomach is nervousness or excitement. 

At some point he might have to actually get out of the car. Well, better early than never– he hauls himself out of the car with a huff of breath and heads upstairs to their apartment, his suit crinkling in its protective plastic. Once inside, he tosses the suit on the bed and starts hunting down Makoto, who should be getting ready. He finds him in the shower.

“Ah, Rin, you’re back already?” Makoto’s silhouette turns to talk to him as he pushes open the bathroom door, towel in hand. “I thought I’d shower early, so I’d be done by the time you got here, but you’re– well, here.” 

“Psshh, shut up, you’re fine. Move over.” 

“What?” But Rin’s already tossed his clothes on the floor and is climbing in next to him. Two grown men crammed into a shower space meant for one person means there are entirely too many arms happening, but Makoto’s at least halfway done, it’s no problem, right? He’s not done thinking this before Makoto smacks him in the face with his elbow trying to rinse out his hair. 

“Fuck, ouch, fucking shit,” Makoto spins around to help, emitting small worried noises, which crushes Rin against the wall even more. “Back off, you’re making it worse–” Makoto’s face wilts. “Not like that,” he gets out, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just– personal space.” 

After a second of recovery, he flashes Makoto a smooth grin that hopefully isn’t ruined by a red nose. “I figured showering together would save time. You’re probably halfway done, right?” 

“I’m almost done, actually,” he says, smiling softly at Rin. “I was about to get out. But here,” and he reaches for Rin’s shampoo. Rin leans back, letting the chill from the tile wall seep into him, and waits, because sometimes when they’re not in a hurry Makoto does this, and he knows what to expect. 

He feels his heartbeat slow as Makoto scritches at his scalp– he’s making sure to wash him thoroughly, but his fingers are gentle. A soft kiss is dropped on one shoulder, not really leading to anything, and sends a small warm ring of awareness through Rin at the point of contact. 

“So picking up the car went okay? No problems, right?” 

“Yeah, yeah, it was easy.” Rin is feeling half-asleep already. He’s supposed to be the one treating Makoto tonight, but Makoto’s doing that thing again, where he makes Rin feel so thoroughly taken care of and _wanted_ without even consciously doing it. His task accomplished, Makoto clambers out to start drying off, and turns back to look at Rin, who wasn’t expecting to be caught. 

He snaps his eyes back up to Makoto’s face. He was just looking. His boyfriend has a nice ass and he was naked and dripping wet. “What, you were just– standing there, and you, you– shut up,” he mutters. He ignores Makoto, who is quietly smirking at him in the mirror. Showering together means that Rin normally would’ve gotten more action than Makoto elbowing him in the face, but they have a reservation at 8:00. They’re not teenagers anymore. They have more self control than that, even if two weeks ago Rin maybe jumped him in the entryway and they got a little carried away. Only a little.

After washing properly, Rin clambers out of the shower, dries off, and blow-dries his hair, and then comes his hairstyling regimen, and by the time he finishes everything, Makoto’s already dressed. He sits on the bed waiting, looking up from his phone as Rin comes back to their room. 

And Makoto looks amazing– more than usual, of course. He’s wearing his suit, his single suit that he finally got tailored after years of Rei’s not-so-subtle hints about properly fitting formal wear– and wow. It cuts in around his hips neatly, and the sleeves were long enough to begin with, but now they actually fit him, from the hand-me-down cufflinks to the strong line of his shoulders. His legs look a mile long and perfect for throwing around Rin’s neck, wait– no. They’re going out to eat. Even if Rin would be perfectly happy eating what’s sitting in front of him.

“Stop looking like that,” Rin says, huffy, as he snatches his suit off the bed and snaps the shirt out. 

“Like what?” Makoto questions, looking down at himself, stretching out those gorgeous legs. 

“Like that,” Rin grumbles, gesturing at his entire body. “All hot and stuff.”

“But I can’t really stop,” he says, too innocently. Makoto’s eyes are wide and bemused and he _completely_ knows what he’s doing. Rin can’t even be mad at him. 

A track consisting solely of “I want you” buzzes in the back of his thoughts as he dresses, but it’s counteracted by Makoto himself, looking at him with such sweet pride. Considering everything he’s done for him, some of that pride is warranted. Who knows where Rin would’ve ended up, in high school and after, without Makoto gently persuading him into being a better person. And now he has the good fortune to have him sitting just a step away, smiling at Rin as he dresses. Rin knows he looks good, turning himself round in front of the mirror on their closet door. 

He catches Makoto’s eyes in the reflection. Judging from the slow way he drags his eyes down Rin’s back, their evening isn’t ending after dinner.

*****

They manage to make it out the door, where Rin’s got the rental car on lockdown even if he’s a little out of practice. Being on a visa half the year makes it hard to get driving experience. Legally. They glide to a stop at a red light, waiting for an endless stream of pedestrians in the glow of their headlights. Makoto shifts to lean against the passenger window.

“Ah, Rin, did you happen to see the message I sent you?” His voice breaks the quiet and Rin glances at him. One of Makoto’s fingers is tapping his leg, over and over, the only sign he’s less relaxed than he sounds.

“Yeah, I did.” 

His finger starts scratching at the fabric of his pants. Rin looks down to watch, distracted. 

“So, what do you think?” Makoto’s not meeting his eyes and Rin’s not sure how to deny him, to answer without ruining his surprise. He hates waiting, and not letting Makoto have something he asks for is probably a crime, he asks for so little. But keeping this secret for the novelty of telling is worth it. Makoto is worth it.

“Not tonight,” he says, quickly, before Makoto can catch that he’s lying. Makoto licks his lips and nods, doing a passable job at not looking disappointed. 

Rin is quick to soften it. “I’ll make it up to you, okay?”

“Yeah!” Makoto replies, his voice pitching just slightly higher, the way it does when his smile is fake. He probably doesn’t know he’s doing it, but Rin does. “It’s okay, don’t worry.”

They park the car and walk to the restaurant in silence. Rin still feels like shit, though, so before they head into the restaurant, he pulls them off the sidewalk to lean against the nearest building. He presses his forehead against Makoto’s, loops his arms around his waist. “Hey, I’m serious when I say I’ll make it up to you. It’s not like I can say no to you for long anyway.” 

Makoto meets his eyes, already smiling again. “Rin! Rin, it’s fine,” and although he’s subtle, Rin can see him looking around to make sure no one’s watching. It’s a nice enough part of town– but what if people talk? He appreciates the thought. But he’s busy cuddling his Mako right now. It’s their anniversary, fuck whoever has a problem with that. 

“I mean it!” He nudges Makoto backward a little, tilting into a kiss with the motion.

Makoto laughs, but his voice is plaintive. “And I believe you, okay? Let’s just have a good dinner and we can talk after, alright?” 

Rin can practically feel him trying to stop a fight before it happens. Luckily for both of them there’s no fight coming, but he goes along with it. Only a few more hours, anyway.

As they enter, the maître d looks up expectantly. “Welcome to Watanabe. You have a reservation?” 

“Yes, Matsuoka?” 

The maître d glances at his screen and back with a smile. “Matsuoka for two, you are indeed on our list for tonight. If you’ll follow our waiter, please,” he says, gesturing as a waitress materializes next to him to lead the way.

The “Reserved” place marker is swept discreetly off the table as they sit down, and after a brief greeting they both get menus, along with a smaller wine menu. “Do we want wine?” Makoto questions, holding out the menu to Rin. 

“Yeah, sure.” They scan over the menu for one they both like, and Rin buys a bottle just for the hell of it. He’s a little thrilled at how fancy everything is, but tries not to look like a kid, playing for the first time at being an adult. He gets in an order for the first course– apparently it’s a specialty here– before noticing that Makoto’s openly staring in all directions at once. 

Rin hisses at him across the ornamental flower centerpiece. “Stop looking around like that, Mako, it looks like you’ve never been outside.” Makoto blinks back at him with round eyes and a pout. 

“I go outside! Don’t be mean. But this is really nice, Rin, like _really_ nice–” and after a pause, Makoto leans in closer as his voice drops. “Can, can we afford this? I really appreciate it of course, but I don’t want to–” 

“It’s fine.” Makoto remains unconvinced.

“I told you it’s fine. Just trust me, I can afford it and you deserve it anyway.” He still looks a little wary, so Rin blows him a kiss. 

Makoto’s face melts into a fond smile. “Okay, okay, I trust you.”

For the main course, Rin decides on wagyu beef, rare as hell; what’s a training diet, it doesn’t exist, Sousuke can beat his ass later. Makoto tries to order the cheapest thing on the menu before Rin catches him. 

“No, no, cut it out. It’s my treat, Mako, don’t be like that,” he gripes, scowling at him. 

“But–” 

“No buts. Get what you want.” He watches Makoto mouth the words; _what I want_ , and look back down, pensive. 

Makoto ends up ordering a flame-seared eel, cut so thin it’s near-translucent. “Here, try some,” he offers, dipping a piece in thick red sauce and holding it out. 

Rin pauses. “Give it to me, then,” he smirks, and opens his mouth, with a little more tongue than is really necessary. Makoto says nothing, but feeds it to him, blushing brilliantly. It’s actually pretty good, Rin decides– and then the sauce kicks in and scorches the inside of his mouth. Play it cool, Matsuoka, you can do this, he tells himself while subtly sucking down his entire glass of water.

“Was it too spicy?” Makoto asks as he dunks another piece in sauce, not affected in the least. How is Makoto still alive? He must be naturally protected from hellfire, it’s the only explanation.

“No, I’m good, it’s good,” he gets out, barely avoiding a coughing fit. He takes a few seconds to forget that he ever tried the sauce before turning to Makoto. “So.” 

“So what?”

“So– one year, right?” Rin raises his wineglass with a grin. “Happy anniversary, Makoto.” 

*****

They end with dessert. “Get something for yourself,” Rin offers. Normally he wouldn’t even think about desserts, but Watanabe only features three desserts each season. It’s almost impossible for them to order something that’s been tastelessly oversweetened.

“Oh no, everything’s been your treat, we don’t have to,” Makoto objects, but it’s halfhearted. Rin hadn’t missed his longing looks at a nearby table when they had received a tiny, custom-made monaka. He huffs. “Makoto, are you actually trying to convince me that you don’t like dessert?” 

“Well, no, just…” he says weakly, before coming to a compromise. “Okay, well, we’ll split it,” Makoto decides, nodding half to himself. After a small deliberation they order a dark chocolate torte, and when it gets to the table, they both look at it, then each other. 

“You first,” Rin says. “It’s your anniversary.”

Makoto frowns. “Um, it’s both of our anniversaries?” 

“Mako. Just try some already,” he sighs. Makoto shaves off a small corner of the torte. 

“Oh!” he exclaims around a mouthful of torte. “It’s– a little bitter but it’s good, here.” He offers some to Rin, and a strong cloud of chocolate hits him as he bites into it. 

“Well?” Makoto says curiously. There’s some sweetness, but it isn’t overwhelming at all, only enough to temper the strength of the chocolate. He tries to memorize the way Makoto looks as he waits for Rin’s opinion, and thinks of course, of course chocolate would be your favorite flavor.

*****

They walk out of the restaurant laughing. Makoto had asked how Sousuke was doing, which somehow ended up with Rin trying to copy the face Sousuke makes whenever he’s trying to hide how confused he is. It made Makoto burst into giggles, which is entirely why he did it, and he’s still trying to calm down when the valet drives back with their car. As they climb in, Rin finds himself pulled across the gearshift into a kiss.

“Thank you, Rin,” Makoto whispers, his voice is full of affection. “Tonight’s been wonderful.” 

He can feel his heartbeat speeding up, along with a feeling he’s not quite identified. “It’s not over yet.” 

“Oh?” Makoto still sounds polite, even at his filthiest he’s polite; but his face matches his intent, bright eyes going darker with anticipation. 

“Yeah. But you gotta wait till we get home.” Rin does his best to keep his eyes on the road as they pull away from the restaurant. He reaches over, tugs at Makoto’s collar to drag him into his space. “I got a surprise for you.” Makoto blinks back at him. Then he edges out of Rin’s grasp, leaning back in his seat with a nervous clearing of his throat. 

“Go fast.” His voice is rough, much lower than its usual cheery timbre, and Rin would love to be scratched by it. 

But they keep things under control, well enough. The last light before they get to the apartment Rin leans over and– well, he intends to kiss Makoto, but ducks down on impulse to mouth at his neck instead. 

Makoto whines and pushes him back shakily. “Rin the light, is going to turn, just go– _hey!_ ” He yelps, slapping a hand to his neck. 

Rin’s bitten him. He leans back across the gearshift and keeps a smile on, only half-hearing Makoto’s protests. He’s not nervous, that can’t be it. It’s just a dress. It’s a stupid dress, and some accessories that his eye for detail wouldn’t let him leave out. All of it is just clothes. He bites at his bottom lip and pushes the gas pedal and his nerves down a little harder. 

*****


	2. Peonies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aight so this chapter is mostly porn but there's an emotional bit at the beginning that i'm kind of proud of

Makoto is pulling Rin by one hand by the time they finally park the car. The minute the door is open, he physically moves Rin inside, half-picking him up around his waist. Rin would be lying if that casual show of strength didn’t get to him. But the only thing he can focus on is Makoto’s mouth. He’s tilting into possessive; apparently Makoto’s feeling bitey tonight too. Rin leans into it, wanting the soft pressure of Makoto’s lips. In this moment, he wants anything Makoto will give him.

They separate for a moment to breathe, and Rin staggers back, leaning on the wall for support. “I’ve been wanting to do that all night,” Makoto pants. “You– you look– wow,” He trails off in favor of ogling as much of Rin as he can, and looks back up helplessly, lost for words. “Wow,” he repeats quietly. Rin knows the feeling. He’s breathing faster just from looking at Makoto and they stare like idiots for a half-second, completely lost in each other. 

Then Rin grabs him, pulling on the fabric of his jacket and pushing one hand into his hair, because he needs Makoto closer, everywhere and right now.

Makoto sighs, content, and drags his hands down Rin’s torso in a way that’s probably meant to be calming but does the exact opposite. One last kiss, and he breaks contact to hold his hand, to barely pull Rin toward their bedroom. The request is so gentle. Rin could twitch himself free if he wanted to; not that he will. He’s always been bad about saying no to Makoto, and he wants this too, so much. 

Makoto’s pulling, and he’s following, until he leans in against Rin’s neck. “So, what was that surprise you had for me?” he whispers as he pulls Rin past the door. And there are his nerves, taking advantage of his heartbeat and twisting it into a panicked staccato. He freezes up, against his will, and his breath does this weird little gulping thing. He hopes Makoto didn’t hear that– but he might notice the way his hands are suddenly sweating, god, that’s disgusting.

“I’ll show you in a second. Geez, can you wait?” That came out snappier than he wanted it. 

“Rin?” Makoto pulls back, more confused than hurt; but the hurt is there, and that’s a knife to Rin’s conscience. He tries to soften his words. 

“You don’t– you didn’t do anything, and can you quit giving me that _pathetic_ look?” That was definitely too snappy, what’s wrong with him?

Makoto’s frowning at him now, dropping his hand away from Rin’s side. “Rin, if you don’t want to… We don’t have to do anything tonight, if you’re–” 

He can feel anger pressing at his ribs, looking for flaws in everything but him. “No, no, wait–” he forces out, and Rin could almost laugh because Makoto is trying to calm him down, but it’s not Makoto’s problem. This is all Rin. 

But tonight is Rin’s anniversary. Both of theirs. He takes a breath. Hold for three, then out– he just has to figure out what’s making him angry. Tonight’s supposed to be special, and he is not biting, not tonight, when he’s already missing Makoto’s warmth. 

“It’s not– that. Just wait. Please.” 

Makoto watches, follows him over to the coffee table and sits down with him. “You can do it,” he breathes. Rin can feel quiet eyes on him, waiting. 

It takes seventeen counts. He takes one final breath and clears his throat. “Okay, I’m good, I’m fine,” he says, trying to sound like a well-adjusted person who does not flip shit on an anniversary night. Turning back to Makoto, he finds him smiling, of all things. “What?”

Makoto scoots around the table and leans his head on Rin’s shoulder, his hand realigning with Rin’s where it lies in his lap. “Can’t I be proud of my boyfriend?” Rin can hear the smile in his voice.

“Stop it, c’mon,” he mutters. He bites at his bottom lip as a blush floods over his cheeks. What a dork. It’s taken three months of work just to get the count under twenty. 

“I won’t! I won’t. I’m proud of you.” Makoto leans into him gently. “But you need to tell me why your ‘surprise’ made you react like that.” 

“You know that text you sent me this morning?” 

Makoto goes still. “Yes,” he says carefully. “You said you didn’t want to, right?” 

“Yeah, about that,” Rin starts, ticking his head to one side nonchalantly, because he’s calm, he’s calm. “I lied.”

“What?”

“I lied, okay?” He sighs. “I hid the stuff in the closet this afternoon.” 

“Oh.” Makoto pauses for a minute. Rin feels his throat bob against his shoulder as he swallows. “Did you– do you not want to?” 

He sounds so concerned. Rin wants to punch himself. “No, I do, you said you wanted to try it–” 

“But Rin, I don’t want to try it if _you_ don’t want–” 

Rin gestures wildly with one hand, trying not to grab at his hair. “But I _do_ want to! I wanna try it if it’s something you like, but it’s–” He stops, his frustration leaving him in a rush. 

“It’s what? It’s just an outfit, Rin.” The corners of his mouth hint upwards, not a smile, just a reassurance. His voice is nothing but accepting. 

“I don’t– it’s girly.” 

“It’s girly?” 

“Yes, it’s a fucking maid outfit, it’s delicate and wimpy and– girly, okay, it’s kind of obvious.” He tries to sound angrier, to give himself some tiny shred of cover, but Makoto doesn’t respond. He just squeezes his hand slightly; Rin had forgotten they were holding hands. 

“Rin,” he says, his voice quiet, “You know that I love you, don’t you?” 

“Yes?” This throws him into confusion. They _did_ just have an anniversary, after all. This isn’t news. 

“And seeing you in– an outfit I’d really like to see you in, that doesn’t change anything about who you are, okay?” 

He still doesn’t see where Makoto is going with this. “Yeah? I know that, what’s your point?” 

He nudges at Rin, until they’re facing each other and he’s caught, unable to look away from the determination he sees in Makoto’s eyes. “My _point_ is that you’re always Rin to me. You can’t BE wimpy, or anything but who you are, no matter what you’re wearing, okay? You’re Rin.” His focused gaze fades into something softer, adoring. “You’re strong, and amazing and beautiful, and I really doubt a piece of clothing could change that.” 

Rin gulps in air fast, his eyes suddenly very itchy. His face feels hot, which is unfair, Makoto shouldn’t be able to do that to him so fast. “I just don’t want to be,” he mumbles, in a voice that isn’t watery at all. He can’t finish the sentence. 

Makoto cups both his hands around Rin’s face, patting his cheeks until he looks up. “What? Tell me,” he whispers, and he’s talking like nothing Rin says could ever be wrong, but Rin still can’t meet his eyes. 

“I’m not weak.” Makoto’s hands drop slightly. 

“How could you be? You’re Rin.” He sounds dumbfounded by the very idea, as though he honestly cannot combine the ideas of “Rin” and “weak” together. Rin regrets putting the look on his face. 

His hands move from Rin’s face and rubs over his arms, never breaking contact. “If you don’t want to– you know, dress up tonight, Rin that’s fine. But don’t ever think something like that makes you weak.” Rin’s chest still feels tight and his eyes are just itchy, he’s not crying. Really, he’s not. But he looks at Makoto, whose face is so open, with everything in his eyes asking Rin to believe him, and something in him settles. After years of feeling just one degree off center, a small piece of Rin quietly fits into place. 

Rin drops his head onto Makoto’s chest– aw shit, he’s been dripping all over Makoto’s suit– and somehow, his voice is less wobbly. “Okay.” He inhales, gets his voice a little steadier. “I want to do it.” He’s never backed down from a challenge, for better or worse. 

Makoto straightens Rin up, pushing at his shoulders and looks over his face carefully. “You’re sure?” he questions. 

“Yeah, let’s– can you wait in the bedroom?” 

“Of course, I’ll get– um, undressed– are you sure?” He’s patting at Rin’s cheek until he has to look him in the eye. Rin doesn’t look away as he leans in to kiss him, not hard but not exactly innocent either.

“Yeah. I’m fine,” he says as he pulls away, and stands up, trying to straighten out his jacket. He stops with one hand on the closet door, expecting Makoto to be following behind him. But he’s still sitting down, an odd look on his face. “Mako?” 

Makoto blinks and scrambles up off the floor. When he stops to kiss Rin on the forehead, he’s smiling, but concern is still lingering around the corners of his eyes. “I’m here. Go get dressed, I’ll wait for you.” He heads into the bedroom, leaving Rin with the contents of the closet.

Rin shuffles into the bathroom, and carefully folds up his suit as he takes it off. There’s no reason to be messy. Once he’s successfully shivering in the middle of the bathroom, he pulls everything out of the bags to lay in a row across the countertop. 

He’s got the dress, crucially, which came in men’s sizes, but he’s not going to think about that too much for now. It’s black, with little white frills on the cuffs and underskirt, and came with a matching apron and headdress. In his opinion it’s a shitty apron, it’s way too small to be functional but whatever. He also found a pair of stockings that looked about his size, plain white to match the apron, and black Mary Janes that actually fit him, incredibly enough. Last of all, he’d bought some plain white panties with a little bow on the front. He kind of likes the bow.

In total, Rin has one dress, one pair of stockings, the shoes, and the panties. An anxious minute later, he’s staring at the mirror, trying to hike up his stockings without pulling at the dress. 

It’s not bad. The underwear was clearly not meant to fit his dick comfortably, so that’s a little awkward– but the skirt is a decent length, and it could probably pass for a genuine maids’ outfit if Rin didn’t know where it came from. The plainness of it just makes things stranger when he finally looks at his face. He looks the same as always, red hair red eyes– but something’s different. All his edges are softer. If he keeps his mouth closed and doesn’t flex his arms too much, he looks– he’s pretty. He’s really pretty. 

For some reason, Rin gets caught on the neckline, flicking his eyes from the little rounded collar to his Adam’s apple. It’s a good ten seconds before he remembers, Makoto’s waiting, and hurries out the door.

*****

Makoto is sitting on the bed in his boxers, looking worried. Then he turns to face Rin and his mouth drops open. Slowly, he moves forward to stand in front of him. “Rin…” His voice is small and awed, like he’s convincing himself it’s really Rin standing there. His arms hover around him hesitantly. 

Rin, though, could really use some kind of feedback. “So? Do you like it or not?”

“I love it.” Makoto sounds downright reverent. “You look beautiful.” He finally does touch him, settling his arms on Rin’s waist, but he doesn’t move closer. He can’t seem to stop looking at Rin, which is nice but not exactly reassuring. Rin pulls him closer, roughly, and Makoto moves with it, leaning in to kiss him hard. “You look even better than I thought,” he says between kisses, his voice tight. He sounds like he’s barely holding himself back. 

Rin shivers. He tries to steady himself, wrapping his arms around Makoto’s shoulders– and feels one of Makoto’s hands sneak down to play with the edge of his stockings. He lets out a gasp, relaxing into a small sigh as Makoto starts pressing kisses down his neck, soft and sloppy. Rin chases him, tries to get Makoto’s mouth back on his so he’s not the only one feeling breathless. But Makoto’s hands are everywhere, on his back and pressing between his legs. He’s mouthing at his collarbone through fabric that’s getting hotter by the second. 

Rin tangles his hands in Makoto’s hair, just to have something to hold onto. “Fuck, fuck– Makoto, bed,” he pants. 

He looks up from Rin’s neck. Makoto holds his gaze for a moment, looking like he’d do anything Rin asked– his eyes are so wide, their green almost hidden by blown-out pupils. 

“Yeah,” he says tersely, and he clears his throat and suddenly Rin’s vision tilts wildly. When he realizes what’s happened, he has to bite back a very pathetic moan, because Makoto just fucking tossed him onto the bed, with seemingly no effort. He dives after Rin with a desperate noise, rucking up his skirt to leave hot handprints on Rin’s thighs. He is quickly realizing how tight this underwear is, and Makoto is warm and heavy on top of him, so Rin spreads his legs a little– just enough to give him space, but Makoto moans and rocks his hips down in response. He can feel Makoto’s dick pressing against his hip, and grabs his ass, purely to confirm a theory. Yeah, Makoto’s rutting against him, even through his boxers and Rin’s dress. 

“Someone’s ready to go, huh?” he smirks, and kneads his fingers into the soft bit at the top of Makoto’s thighs. He really does have a great ass.

“I can’t help it,” he sobs, and crushes his mouth into Rin’s. His arms are curled around Rin, and the hand that’s grabbing at the back of his dress is shaking; Makoto seems more into his new outfit that he wanted to admit. The thought is quickly gone as he grinds up against Makoto and pleasure curls hot in his stomach. Makoto licks a kiss onto his lips, asking for permission, and he lets him in with a relieved whimper.

So much for being mature. He’s still got his shoes on and they’re already humping on the bed like teenagers. Eventually though, he does have to breathe, and he reluctantly pulls away from Makoto. Makoto whines and pulls at Rin’s bottom lip with his teeth. “Stop it, you baby,” he laughs, turning his face away with a smile. He puts up with about two seconds of whimpering before giving in to another kiss, gentler this time. 

Makoto opens his mouth to talk, stops and swallows nervously. “Can I top tonight? If you don’t want to we don’t–”

“Stop deciding for me.” He scowls at him and pinches one ass cheek. Makoto’s voice trails off with a whimper. 

Rin contemplates things. He’s definitely okay with it, but– “It’s not because of the dress, is it?” 

“What?” A tiny, tiny frown forms between Makoto’s eyebrows. “No, I just really want to fuck you,” he says, swallowing nervously. It’s impossible how innocent he looks. 

Rin can tell he’s being honest. “Okay, fine, get the lube– and get a condom too, okay?” 

Makoto stretches backwards, fumbling with the nightstand drawer, and Rin takes the chance to figure out what to do with his skirt. He settles for hiking it up over his hips and leans back on his elbows. Should he take off the shoes? Probably, they were mostly for presentation. He lifts one foot up to unbuckle them, at the same time that Makoto turns back towards him, and kicks him in the face.

“Ouch!” 

“Ah, shit,” Rin starts, leaning forward to help, but Makoto recovers quickly. 

“No, it’s fine, here,” he assures him, and lifts Rin’s leg back up. He sets aside the bottle and condom as he cradles Rin’s foot in both hands, delicately unbuckling one shoe, then the other. Makoto leans down to deposit the shoes on the floor, and sits back up, trailing his fingers over one stockinged foot. “There,” he whispers, and leans in to kiss Rin softly. “Do you want to prep, or me?”

“Well you already got me in a dress, so how about you do something, huh?” Rin blusters, overwhelmed by how attentive he’s being. Makoto squeezes out some lube and Rin readjusts his dress. Makoto’s mouth falls open a little when he sees the panties. 

“I liked the bow,” he says unnecessarily, just to have something to say. 

Makoto reaches forward like he’s been blessed. “You even got panties,” he whispers, disbelieving and ecstatic, and brushes his fingertips over them. That only makes Rin more frustrated, because he’s hard too, that’s not nearly enough friction. 

“Are you going to just look at them? Keep going.” He twitches up toward Makoto’s hand with a pointed look. 

He wraps his hand around Rin’s dick through the panties and rubs, pulling a whine out of him. “Is that good?” 

“What do you think?” he pants, trying to keep his voice level. Makoto moves his hand off his dick and nudges the panties aside with his lubed-up hand as he works one finger into Rin. Holy shit, he’s definitely more into this than he admitted, he’s not even taking them off. His kisses are as sweet as ever though, gentle mouthing at his lips and jaw, and Rin pulls him closer with one arm around his neck.

He nods after a minute to Makoto and lets out a short “another,” and moans as his fingers move deeper. Rin has a sudden surge of affection for Makoto and the way that he always remembers to warm up the lube, what a great boyfriend; he rocks his hips down slowly and tries to relax. He can feel Makoto’s fingers moving inside him gently, spreading him a millimeter at a time and trying to find his– fuck. 

Rin throws his head back, his eyes falling closed. “There, there, keep going, c’mon,” he chokes out, the last of his words dissolving into moans. Makoto works in another finger while Rin’s head is still spinning and hits straight into his prostate. What a jerk, he’d been avoiding it on purpose. 

“Here? You like it here?” His voice is wonderfully deep and he’s whispering into Rin’s ear like sweetest sin. He actually speeds up, pressing his fingers in hard, and Rin reaches down to tug his cock out of the panties because it’s painful how tight they are now. Makoto gives him a look, and laughs under his breath. “I guess I’m doing good,” he grins. 

“You try– fitting your dick in these, then we’ll see who’s laughing,” he pants. He’s one to talk, his cock’s been rubbing against Rin’s leg this entire time. 

“Oh, I intend to fit in there,” he counters, sweet and calm, as he spreads his fingers. He’s stretching Rin wonderfully, and Rin tips his head back with a groan. He grinds down as much as he can, spreading his legs further in an attempt to get _more._

Makoto crawls between his legs and takes off his boxers, finally. His cock is flushed red, the head already slick with precum, and Rin temporarily forgets how ridiculous he looks, all thoughts washed out just by looking at Makoto. He tilts his hips up, breathing out heavily. Rin really wants that cock. It’s so pretty, and he’s hard, it just wouldn’t be fair to deny him something so nice. And Makoto clearly isn’t about to. He slicks the condom on carefully, before moving one hand down to line himself up.

“Just relax, I’ve got you,” he starts. 

“Yeah, yeah,” _put your dick in me,_ he thinks impatiently, digging his fingers into Makoto’s shoulders. “Hurry up." Makoto hooks his arms under Rin’s shoulders and pushes in slowly. He lets out a strained whine– he must have been putting in as much effort as Rin was to hold himself back. As Makoto pushes in the last tiny bit, Rin gasps, heating the air in the tiny space between them. He’s going dizzy from the sensation of being full of Makoto, from being entirely surrounded by him, and he loves it. 

They hold eye contact, neither one wanting to look away. Makoto’s eyes are so pretty, he has such long eyelashes. Rin moves forward to feather a kiss on Makoto’s lips. His mouth is warm. “You ready?” Makoto asks. 

“Yeah, c’mon,” he says, and feels a hand move to cradle his head as he starts moving. Makoto pulls out a little, and shudders, his mouth dropping open slightly. A tiny “oh” falls from his mouth and he thrusts completely in, agonizingly slow. 

Rin pushes back on him roughly. He does not want it slow and tender. He saw a filthy promise in the way Makoto was looking at him all night, he knows it. Under that sweet face is someone just as ravenous as he is. 

“Mako– Makoto, faster, you asshole,” he groans, reaching down to relieve himself at least a little. A wave of arousal shoots through him as he curls one hand around his cock, and he rolls his body into Makoto’s, asking for more. But he keeps going slow. He’s toying with the ribbons on Rin’s headdress and it would be sweet, if it weren’t for the fact that Rin absolutely does not want sweet right now.

He pulls himself upright– shivers a little as Makoto’s cock shifts inside him, _fuck_ he’s even deeper now– and shoves the dress hastily out of the way so he can lean in toward Makoto’s face. “If you don’t fuck me right now, I’m going to lose it,” he hisses hotly. 

And finally, Makoto takes the hint and grabs Rin’s hips hard. “Okaay,” he whines, biting his lip and looking at Rin desperately. He shifts his feet, bracing himself, and then he moves, holding Rin tight and looking up through barely-open eyes as he pounds into him. He’s always so easy once Rin says “fuck me,” it’s almost funny. But whatever, it works. Makoto’s hitting just past the spot Rin really needs, but the stifled groans he’s making are sweet enough to make up for it. Rin hears his name somewhere in the mix, half drowned out by his own moaning and the slick sound of fucking. He’s still got the panties on and the added friction is making everything twice as intense. He can feel his face flushing red, and tips his head back for air, every bit of him on fire. 

Makoto lets go of one hip and trails a hand down his neck and chest. “You look– you’re beautiful, you’re so beautiful, Rin,” he slurs, sounding drunk on pleasure. Rin glances down at him out of the corner of his eye. He looks the way Rin feels. Rin is quickly getting overwhelmed, feels his orgasm building hot in his stomach, but he can’t quite get there with the way Makoto’s moving. He groans in frustration, not bothering to form words, but Makoto understands. “You’re close?”

“Yeahh,” he says, a moan barely kept out of his voice, and he leans back on his arms. “Faster,” he demands, meeting his eyes and dropping his chin to his chest so Makoto can watch. Mako loves looking at his face, when they’re fucking, and Rin never minds indulging him because the expressions Makoto makes are just as good. It means he gets to see Makoto’s last tiny bit of restraint crumble. He lets out a petulant moan as his hips stutter, and he starts moving faster, the hand on Rin’s hip tightening and that’s gonna leave a bruise but Rin doesn’t even care right now.

The angle’s different now, the sound of skin slapping together loud and sticky from lube, and Makoto’s whining his name, over and over, a breathy constant stream of “Rin, Rin, Rin.” He’s doing that, Rin is the reason Makoto sounds like he’s falling to pieces and it sends a delighted rush through every bit of him. He shakily pries one of Makoto’s hands off his hip– he’s close, he’s so close. 

“Touch me, he says breathlessly, moving his hand to his cock. He feels fingers close around him, setting a rhythm quickly. “Oh fuck, fuck, Makoto,” he babbles, his eyes going wide as a moan forces its way out and distorts his boyfriend’s name into an incredibly aroused cry. And the elastic of the panties is pressing right under his balls, why is that so _good,_ and then Makoto rolls his palm over the head and squeezes tight, and that’s it, Rin’s coming, splurting through Makoto’s fingers and all over his dress.

By the time his head clears a little, Makoto’s still fucking into him hard. His eyes are glazed over, looking at Rin through a fog of arousal and open-mouthed panting. He looks so blissed out, but as much as Rin would love to indulge him, he’s quickly getting oversensitive and coming down off his orgasm. He slaps at his abs lightly. “Mako, stop,” he pants as he pulls off, wincing at the empty feeling. 

Makoto whines at him incoherently, and Rin hears the meaning behind it. How rude, Rin, I’m so close, you’re mean, why’d you stop? But Rin’s not stupid, he knows the feeling. He quickly strips off the condom so he can wrap a hand around him. Leaning down, he licks around the base, and deliberately keeps eye contact as he starts jerking him off. Makoto’s hands curl into the sheets and he twists upward, pushing into Rin’s grasp. Rin swirls a finger over his head, smirking at the desperate noise it gets him, and drags it down the underside of Makoto’s cock, smearing through precum and lube and giving him nowhere enough friction. 

“I know, I know,” he says, mock-sympathetic, and decides to try something. It goes against all of his pride, but he genuinely wants to see what Makoto will do in response. So he starts jacking him off again, faster, and pitches his voice as submissive as he can.

“Please, master?” He angles Makoto’s cock towards his mouth as he sticks his tongue out, his eyes wide and as innocent as he can pull off. Makoto makes a choked noise, too overcome to even answer Rin, and he seems almost surprised when he comes not a second after.

Rin flinches as it hits his face– he didn’t expect him to come right away. He works Makoto through it anyway, though, drinking in the tiny moans he makes as he falls apart. After a few seconds, one of his hands uncurls from the sheets and nudges Rin away, already too sensitive. 

Makoto’s clearly still in a daze, flopped back onto the bed staring at the ceiling. Rin takes the moment to clean his face and mouth. He hates the texture, no offense to Makoto. He decides to spit into the hem of the dress– might as well, it’s dirty anyway– but as he cleans up he realizes the panties are also sticking to him, in a very unpleasant way. Rin pulls them off and tosses them somewhere on the bed without really caring, and flops down next to Makoto, thoroughly worn out.

“You alright there?” he asks, leaning his chin on Makoto’s shoulder.

“I didn’t mean to come on your face. I know you don’t like it,” he replies, laconic. He still sounds a little in shock. 

“It’s fine. I wiped it off.” He pauses and then grins wickedly. “So. Master, huh?” 

Makoto looks over at him, his expression pleading. “Maybe? I didn’t– I don’t know.” There’s a small worried frown on his face. Rin knows the look; Makoto’s just trying to figure out how much he liked it. That’s fine. He is more than okay with helping clarify things. But then his expression shifts, and he reaches over to run a hand tenderly through Rin’s hair. “How about you? The outfit– are you okay with it?” 

And Rin remembers he’s in a dress. It hadn’t seemed important. He pauses, letting Makoto toy with his hair as he thinks. He was still in control, even when he was dressed like this, wasn’t he? He wasn’t suddenly left alone, or teased about how girly he was– Makoto had only called him beautiful. Which he is, Rin’s not blind, but it’s different. If he can be this pretty to Mako, why can’t he be pretty on his own? There’s nothing stopping him. He’s Rin, after all, he chases what he wants until he finds it, no matter how much work it takes. If he can do this without any problems, then maybe everything else he wanted was fine too. 

“Rin?” He blinks, looking back at Makoto, who’s still waiting on an answer.

“Yeah. I really liked it, actually.” He tilts his head forward for a kiss and feels Makoto’s hand behind his head, pressing him into it. He pulls back slowly, keeping their faces close. “Thank you,” he says, because he feels like he has to say it. 

Makoto looks at him like he couldn’t want anything more than to be right here with Rin, the tiny bedside lamp washing both of them in quiet gold. He shifts, and the moment breaks as they both look down at Rin’s dress.

“I guess we’ll need to wash it, huh?” Makoto says sheepishly, looking down at the stained skirt.

“It should be okay. I’ll put it in the sink to soak for now.” Rin heaves in a breath as he gets up and strips it off, leaving him only in his stockings. He hikes one leg up again– compared to his nervous adjustments in the bathroom, it feels almost casual. “Shower in the morning?” he looks at Makoto questioningly. 

“Definitely,” he agrees. 

Rin goes and dunks the dress in the sink, so at least their filthiness won’t be permanent, and comes back to find Makoto brushing his teeth in the bathroom. “I brought you some underwear!” Makoto puffs out through a mouth of foam. Rin takes the folded-up clothes gratefully–it’s a little cold walking around naked, anyway– and stares at it, then back at Makoto. 

“These are boxers, Makoto.” Makoto is the only one of them that wears boxers. 

“Oh, I know,” he says, attentive as ever. He glances over at Rin, a wicked smile flitting around the corners of his eyes. What an asshole. But he puts them on anyway, smiling despite himself.

They both brush their teeth and settle into bed, but Makoto stops as he is climbing in after Rin, looking at him with a small frown. “Rin?” 

“Yeah?” 

“You still have the– the stockings.” 

“Yeah? They’re comfy.” He meets Makoto’s inquiring eyes, trying to figure out what he’s thinking. Is wearing them bad? They really are comfortable. 

“Nothing,” he says, his face softening into a smile. “They look good.” 

“Yeah they do,” Rin says, enthusiastically- and then he realizes how tired he is. Makoto pulls the covers over them as he drapes one leg over Makoto’s waist. He leaves a kiss on Makoto’s shoulder, and sighs as he feels Makoto’s arms come up around him. They lay there in silence, warm and completely peaceful, and Rin is half-asleep before he hears Makoto whispering. 

“Rin?” 

“Mm.” 

“We made it a year.” 

That wakes him up a little, only enough to make his face split into a grin. “We did, huh? Let’s make next year even better, yeah? And the one after that. And after that.” 

It’s too dark now to see but he knows Makoto’s smiling, he can hear it in his words. “As many years as you’ll have me for.” 

“All of them, then.” He’s almost entirely asleep now, but he still feels the kiss on the top of his head. Makoto doesn’t have to speak for Rin to know the answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sousuke texts him at 5 in the morning “so how was your kinky-ass maid sex”  
> rin sends him ten pictures of his middle finger with a different shitty filter for each one
> 
> oh also the restaurant is named after Kou's voice actor, because I just really like Kou


End file.
